More Fragmented Ideas
by Chilord
Summary: Another batch of incomplete story starts that may or may not ever see completion
1. Naruto: Cards

Title: Falling like a house of cards

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto; House of Cards concept originated with drakensis and Rift120. One of them is a well known typo demon, known for contaminating the most disciplined of typists.

Author's Notes: Meh, blame a bad continuation/pick up of the idea. Also, put Anko's age where it actually is.

-o-o-o-

"Nai-chan!"

"Whatever it is, Anko, the answer is no," Kurenai Yuuhi stated simply, her almost glowing red eyes refusing to even glance towards the curvy teen who'd spoken her name. "I had to replace my entire outfit the last time you used that tone of voice."

Anko Mitarashi pouted softly as she blinked innocently up at the chuunin, "Now, Nai-chan, that's not nice. How was I to know that those old bastards wouldn't be able to handle the awesomeness that is me?"

"Anko, I swear to the gods, I have no idea how you out rank me," Kurenai groaned as she looked at perky teenager and struggled to suppress the surge of jealousy she felt at the way Anko's breasts were straining against her vest.

"Because I'm just so damned awesome, and I can kill a man with a lollipop stick?" Anko chirruped easily and nodded her head, "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about!"

"... I don't want to know. I really don't. Find someone else to pull into one of your schemes, Anko," Kurenai said flatly as she turned her attention back to the genjutsu treatise she was reading.

"Mmm but no one else I know will look like this in a little black dress!" Anko countered with another, cheerful grin as she pulled out a picture of a rather disheveled looking Kurenai pulling down the front of her dress as she licked at her lips.

"Look like...? Wait, where did you get that!?" Kurenai demanded, lunging for the photograph in Anko's hand only to have the girl easily twist, sway and roll out of the way with a serpentine grace. "Give me that!"

"Aw, come on, Nai-chan! This is a great picture! Why I bet we could even get it on your ninja ID! That wild, 'get your ass over here and fuck me' look in your eye, Think of the impact it'd have!" Anko grinned as she licked her lips and winked at Kurenai and then danced out of reach and made the photo vanish up her sleeves.

"What. Do. You. Want. Anko?!" Kurenai hissed out as she glared back down at the girl.

"To make us a lot of money?" Anko asked back, smiling innocently as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"I swear if this is another one of your get rich quick schemes..." Kurenai lead off, growling darkly at her.

"I need you to help me out with a tweensy little bit of capital, and to be some damned nice eye candy," Anko countered back and beamed at Anko.

"No," Kurenai said flatly. "Just because you want to blow all your money doesn't mean I want to do the same with mine."

"I just need 300,000 ryo," Anko said quickly, before grinning at her, "Well, and for you to dress to the nines and and look absolutely delicious."

"Just 300,000 ryo," Kurenai said flatly as she looked at Anko. "You mean, just the majority of my savings from the last five years."

"The stake is 1,000,000! I just need you to cover that much of it, and I split what we make off of it, 50-50!" Anko said eagerly her eyes shining, "I got some really sweet A-ranks lately, but I'm still a bit short."

"... Yes, remind me again that you out rank me," Kurenai grumbled softly as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "And the pictures?"

"If you agree to be part of this historical financial endeavor with me, they go bye-bye!" Anko agreed quickly.

"All of them. And the negatives," Kurenai stated with narrowed eyes.

"Every one of them on my property," she agreed with an eager nod.

"Every last one of them in the _Village_," Kurenai countered as she crossed her arms about her chest.

"Well, I'm sure that could be done, I mean, I'm sure I could take the time, make sure that they're all..." Anko said hedgingly as she shifted uncomfortably. "But think about how much work that would be!"

"All of them, Anko, or no deal, I don't care who you show them to." Kurenai countered back.

"Oooh? Not even a certain someone I've seen you making moon eyes at? I've got a really nice pic of you giving that lap dance, remind me to get some pointers from you on that, and..."

"Get rid of them _all, _Anko!" Kurenai hissed, blushing furiously, "And it's a deal."

"Fine, I'll do what you asked," Anko huffed softly, before she offered her hand, "Deal?"

Reluctantly, Kurenai offered her hand, "Deal. And it's 50-50, right?"

Anko shook it vigorously. "Definitely! You and me, Nai-chan! We're in this together, all the way!"

-o-o-o-

Most people considered catching 6 year old boys to be a less than trying experience. They had short legs, short attention spans and usually little stamina. Sadly, most people failed to consider just how difficult it could be to catch a small, energetic little troublemaker who had no qualms using every part of himself to get away.

Naruto Uzumaki might have the short legs and attention span, but this blond, blue eyed boy was born to move. Which was why he was darting around corners, running through legs, squeezing into crevices and scrambling over obstacles. He wasn't about to give his pursuers the satisfaction of an easy capture.

"Get back here, you little brat!"

The three men looked in a decidedly less than ideal mood. One could even reach a cruder summary. They were pissed.

They also reeked of garlic, ginger and wasabi, with red, sweat slick skin and watery eyes.

How they'd managed to end up as the targets of this particular child's prank was a rather long story that has no real impact on the telling of the tale. Nor was it an act of righteous vengeance wrought upon them by our young troublemaker. No, the simple truth was Naruto had been bored, and they happened to be available.

So, Naruto ran, scrambled, dodged, and taunted.

"I've seen fatties run faster than you!"

They weren't necessarily _good_ taunts, but they were still, taunts none-the-less.

"When I get my hands on you...!"

Naruto wasted little time as he shot off as fast as he could, turning the corner and quickly darting around. A bounce, a twist, and a surprisingly fluid gymnastics roll had him vanishing through an open door, before finding himself landing flat on his ass in front of a table full of staring ninja. At the head, was a rather bemused looking Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.

"Naruto-kun, do I want to know what you're doing here?" Sarutobi asked curiously.

"Let us in there! That little bastard has to pay for what he did!"

"Ummmm... Nope!" Naruto agreed with a quick shake of his head.

"Naruto, what am I going to do with you?" Sarutobi sighed as he covered his face with his palm and slowly shook his head.

"I don't care who you're chasing. One, you're not the police. Two, this is a private meeting involving the Hokage. And three, I can barely stand having you 5 feet in front of me, no way I'm letting you any closer smelling like that," the ANBU guard said flatly as he gripped his sword for emphasis. "Now, go home, and for the sweet mercy of the kami, take a couple of baths."

"... Smell, Naruto-kun?" Sarutobi repeated, before sighing softly and shaking his head. "Never mind. I'm afraid you're going to have to head back to the orphanage. We're about to start our game."

"Game?" Naruto immediately perked up. "You're gonna be playing a game, old man?!"

An adult game, brat," Anko, dressed in a low cut, black halter top dress with a black half coat covering her back, said simply as she bought her chips from the unreadable Shibi Aburame sitting stoically with a pair of dark shades and a heavy coat despite being indoors. "Where you have to buy in with money, a whole lotta money."

"A whole lotta money you better pay me back," Kurenai agreed with a quiet grumble, her hand on her hip, dressed in a classic, strapless little black dress, with a slight gleam of jewelry dangling off her body.

"Yes, a whole lot of money," Sarutobi agreed, while casting the slightest of exasperated frowns at Anko. "So, I'm afraid, Naruto..."

"I gots money!" Naruto said quickly, his eyes shining as he pulled out a worn toad shaped wallet, visibly straining to hold in its contents. "See!?"

And indeed he did. While still quite short of the amount required to buy into the game, it was still an unseemly amount for a child like him to be simply carrying around.

"… Naruto, where did you get that money?" Sarutobi asked calmly as he looked back at the boy, making sure to not frown.

"Um… I took it from the meanies." Naruto stated with a nod of his head. "When they kept taking all of mine."

"… The meanies, Naruto?" Sarutobi stated as he frowned a bit as he looked back at Naruto. "Taking your money?"

"Yeah!" Naruto agreed with a nod and a frown. "Like when I wanted to get some ice cream. They took all my money and made me leave! I didn't get any ice cream! So, I came back and got my money back and some ice cream!"

"I see." Sarutobi stated in a slow, cool tone, before slowly turning his attention to where Chouza Akimichi was frowning himself. "Akimichi-san. I expect that I can trust you to… look into this?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama." Chouza agreed quietly, glancing at his former teammates, Inoichi Yamanaka and Shikaku Nara.

"Good." Sarutobi agreed with a nod of his head, before looking back at Naruto. "However, Naruto, I'm still afraid that I can't let you just join this game."

"Damned straight!" Anko agreed before withering under the Hokage's glare. "Errr… I meant: Darn Tootin?"

Sighing softly, Sarutobi shook his head and looked back at where Naruto was pouting at him, small little arms crossed about his chest. "As I was saying, this is not a game for children, Naruto-kun."

"But no one ever plays with me!" Naruto whined slightly, looking up at the Hokage with glistening eyes. "I just wanna play a game!"

It broke Sarutobi's heart that at the honest desperation in the boy's eyes as he looked up at him and he sighed softly.

"Well, if it's not his money, it's not like he'd really be using his own money…" Chouzo allowed, not really able to bring himself to deny the little scamp.

There were a few voices of debate rippling around the table, before eyes inevitably rested upon one of two figures. The esteemed Hokage, or his contemporary, Danzo Shimura. Danzo seemed to consider a moment, his single eye opening and regarding Naruto for a moment, before flicking to Sarutobi.

"If nothing else, Hiruzen, he will learn a lesson about the transitory nature of wealth."

"Not to mention some disloyal individuals end up out of pocket either way." Shikaku Nara noted dryly.

"Pruning of a tree does not always require the removal of an entire branch. Sometimes, simply a few of its leaves need are all that is required to reshape it to a more desired form." Danzo answered calmly.

Sarutobi looked around the room, noting the general agreement in people's eyes before sighing and nodding as he looked back at the very hopeful looking Naruto. "Very well, Naruto. You can play."

As Naruto gave off a celebratory cheer, Sarutobi looked around, before suddenly smiling impishly. "And I'm sure Anko-chan here will be happy to teach you how to play."

"Yatta!" Naruto exclaimed happily, beaming at Anko happily.

"But…" Anko started to protest, before one look at Sarutobi told her that this wasn't something she was going to win, and she slumped down. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Excellent." Sarutobi stated cheerfully. "Now, Naruto, what we're going to play is a card game called Poker."

And thus, a whispered legend was born.


	2. BatmanBeyond:Not Quite

Title: Not quite Beyond

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond Belongs to DC and associated animation studio

Author's Notes: Just an idea that never became anything more.

It was a sunny day, as a pair of teenagers walked down the street, their backs to the school that had just released. A sunny day, shining brightly and happily, upon the urban sprawl of Gotham. If that hadn't been an ill omen for the pair of teens, then the old man standing in their way, waiting patiently in front of them certainly was.

"Come along, boy, we have places to go, questions to answer, riddles to solve," the elderly man in a bowler hat stated as he gave a look at the incredulous young man while tapping his cane impatiently on the side walk in front of him.

"Um, Terry? Are you getting passed around from one rich old geezer to another?" Max asked her best friend as then looked back at the now rather irritated looking man.

"No, Max. And I don't even know this guy," Terry McGuiness insisted as he looked back at the man, "Look, sir, I think you have me confused with someone else."

"Ah, right, introductions, I had hoped you'd be more like the rest of your little clan, they'd at least have recognized me from the start," the man half muttered in irritation as he lightly glared at the boy, "Really, that doesn't speak much about your deductive skills, though that was primarily the reason I'm even here."

"Sorry, but I have to get going, I have a job to get to," Terry insisted as he started to walk away from the man with Max in tow.

"The name, Mr. McGuiness, is Nigma. Edward Nigma. And I am here on behalf of an... old friend of your predecessor, who expressed certain deficiencies in your skill set that your mentor has yet to correct," the man stated as he lifted up his cane, revealing a curling cue of a question mark, "She was most distressed."

Terry froze in place, and suddenly, every inch of his body coiled and prepared itself as he smoothly pivoted and placed himself between Max and the man, his body half hunched forward like an angry beast, "Max, get out of here, _now._"

"Terry...?" Max glanced back at the man then at her friend, "Um, he's an old guy..."

"So's Bruce," Terry stated simply his eyes never leaving Nigma's exasperatedly bemused expression.

"Ah, right, I'll just be, you know... going then," Max glanced warily at the man now as he inched away, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Nigma..."

With that, she turned and almost ran away, reaching down for her phone before she was more than a handful of strides away.

"What do you want, Riddler?" Terry growled out as his voice darkened into a gravely rumble.

"Ah, well, at least you have the bat glare down, I'll give it a 7," Nigma noted with a bemused chuckle, "And it's Edward or Nigma. I am quite retired from that life, both sides of it," he paused before frowning slightly, "Or, at least I was until Selena decided to prod me into this little debacle."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Terry demanded, before his phone started to ring.

"You should probably answer that, he never did like to be kept waiting," Nigma stated instead as he smirked a bit.

Watching the old man warily, Terry reached into his jacket and retrieved his phone. A quick glance at the ID on it, had him flipping it open and bringing it to his ear, "You ok?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," Bruce stated with a note of irritation in his voice, "Max called me. Put Nigma on."

"But..."

"Now."

Glaring lightly at the phone, Terry reluctantly handed it to the man in front of you, "He wants to talk to you."

"Demands more likely," Edward agreed with a roll of his eyes and a quick snagging of the phone as he brought it to his ear even as he leaned down on his cane, "Bruce! How wonderful to hear from you, you don't call, you don't write, you don't even play chess with me anymore!"

"... What do you want, Edward?" The tone was both irritated and resigned with a barely repressed sigh that came with the start of a soon to be throbbing headache.

"Primarily? I want Selena off my back," Edward stated simply, "You do remember Selena, don't you? Charming woman, had a thing for cats. The woman you should've married?"

Terry was staring at the man as Bruce responded, "... And if I object?"

"Well, then she moves down the list. Pamela has always been a great motivator. Your boy has already encountered Harley's grand-daughters from what I understand. If some hadn't poisoned his venom, I'm sure Bane would've been involved... Hmmm..." Edward tilted his head to the side in thought, "Of course, if all else really fails, she'll pull out the big guns."

"..." Silence met that statement, before Bruce slowly spoke. "When is she coming in."

"Oh, not for some time. She's in Bludhaven, catching up with little bird," Edward stated simply with an entirely too innocent smile. "Why, she's thoroughly disappointed in you, not telling her about your... ssssuccessor. I think she even found herself a protege."

"You never just 'think' something, Edward," Bruce stated bluntly before sighing. "Have Terry bring you to the house."

"Oh, my. I'm being invited to the belfry?" There was a slight mocking to the tone, before Edward paused and then glanced back at the phone, "That was pushing it, wasn't it."

"... Just get here." And with that the line disconnected.

"Well, looks like you'll be playing chauffeur for another crazy old man, my boy," Edward tipped his hat to Terry, "I do however, think you'll find me more... stimulating company. Do you like... riddles?"

Terry had a feeling this was going to be a long, long drive.


	3. SWKotOR: Game On

Title: Game On

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Disney. KotOR concept by bioware

Author's Notes: Just my take on Revan turning canon events of KotOR on their head.

-o-o-o-

He turned his head as the hum of ionizing air filled his ears with the familiar snapping hiss of release that signaled the release of a lightsaber. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring out into the endless sea of the universe, dotted with ships and streaks of colored lights announcing bolts of lancing energy. It was finally time.

Turning his head, he caught sight of the advancing group of Jedi as his eyes fell on her. He could almost feel the urge to allow his face to twist in pity for the girl. A puppet, just as the rest, blind and loyally following their _masters' _strings.

"It's over, Revan, surrender!"

Her simple, unwavering confidence only made him want to explode in laughter. Here she was, an unblooded Jedi, barely past being a youngling, and she was here to tell him it was at an end. It tempted him to tell her the truth, to let her in on the game being played between Sith and Jedi on a scale that she couldn't even begin to imagine.

But no, he'd break her first. Not like the Sith, not like the Jedi. No, he'd break her in a way they couldn't begin to comprehend.

But it was time for the curtain to open and the grand game to begin. It was time to show the Jedi and Sith, that there was a new player in this game, and he wouldn't play by their archaic rules.

With a snapping hiss, his own light saber awoke, but he took no more than the most basic of stances. As they drew themselves up in preparation, he took a slow, deep breath, centering himself for what was to come. Shielding himself as he could feel the rising heat lancing from the edges of his senses.

Then, the world around him suddenly exploded, and he went limp with it, allowing it to launch him, to throw him forward like some child's toy. As he could feel the pain about to explode through his body, he allowed a smile to curl over his lips. A moment later, he was gone, buried deep, hidden in his own mind as the lies took shape around him.

They shattered and broke. The fragments would be what the Jedi wanted to see, to assure themselves of their own righteousness. They would make their play then, riding on their high words and lofty claims.

The Jedi, who never really understood revenge, would learn what it meant at the hands of its lord. The Sith, who glorified it and even deified it, would learn the truth. He would wait, he would be patient, and he would be victorious.

He was The Revanchist. He was the Lord of Revenge. He would make them learn what that meant.

-o-o-o-

It wasn't until the world began to explode and crash around him once more that he awoke again. The feeble construct the Jedi had built around his hidden core had put up a moment's protest, a moment of resistance, before it melted back into the truth of who he was. With a clinical detachment, he separated it, shifting through it as he cataloged what they had built for him.

Davad Gallik. He'd almost forgotten that name after the years. So many people knew him simply as Revan, or Darth Revan that it had become a bit of obscure trivia. Still, at least he wasn't stuck with the abomination that had been Malak's actual name.

That fact filed away, he moved on. Who did they expect Davad Gallik to be, hmm?

A smuggler. Of course. Of all the things in the great, wide galaxy, that placed him in the role of a smuggler. And only barely skilled one at that.

He could find none of the hard won skills that had allowed him to craft droids and lay in intricate, elegant programs that would cull even the most well hidden bits of data. Of course they wouldn't allow him to keep those. They were making him a mockery of what and who he was.

There were still some of his skills. Only broken down into their most rudimentary of forms. With the knowledge he had, he would have barely been able to open up the most feebly secured doors and locks, or only influence the modicum of individuals.

They couldn't take the last, not entirely, so they'd broken it as much as they could and built up around. If it hadn't been such a twisting mockery of who he really was he would have laughed. As it was?

"Hey! Wake up, the Endar Spire is under attack!" A blonde man in Republic colors practically ran into the room, blaster in hand.

He searched through the gaggle of memories he'd gained from who he was, but could find not even a single mention of the man in front of him. Ah, he could work with this. "Who the hell are you?"

"Trask Ulgo." The man nodded his head to him. "I'm your bunkmate, we've been working opposite shifts so we hadn't met yet."

Ulgo, Ulgo... Now why was that name so… Ah, yes. "Of the Alderaan Ulgos?"

Trask froze at that, before giving him a glowering glare that was all the answer he needed. "And you're a smuggler from the Outer Rim, your point?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing…" He raised his hands up in an entirely placating manner. "I just remember earning a pretty penny smuggling some rarer spirits for one of your family members once upon a time. Even shared a bottle with me. Good stuff that."

It was true enough, as he watched Trask relax slightly, the Jedi had planted that particular tidbit in his memories, probably to make him more likely to think favorably about his bunkmate. Of course, now he was going to have to track down another bottle of that damned stuff. He had to know if it tasted as good as the memories he'd been given.

"Ah, right. Look, we don't really have time to chat about my family's skirting of the law." There was another slight grimace of distaste on Trask's face as the ship was rocked by another violent explosion. "Get dressed and get your gear, we have to make sure Bastila's safe."

"Mmm, well it would be a shame to lose such a nice piece of…" The drawled out words died with a cheeky grin as Trask's glare returned full force. "Republic assets."

Trask grunted once as he moved back to the door. "Just get your ass in gear before I remind you we're in the middle of a space battle, not a Nar Shaddaa cantina."

"Well, I kind of noticed that, what with the lack of twi'lek and zeltron dancers." There was a pause, as he pulled his pants up and then threw on his boots. "And the lack of good booze."

"The explosions and violence didn't clue you in first?" Trask snapped back with that voice of irritation.

"No, that part's pretty much on par for a Nar Shaddaa cantina." Davad threw a grin back at Trask as he pulled on his shirt and then threw on the stealth generator the Jedi had so _generously_ left him and then picked up his blaster then affixed the short vibroblade he'd been left at his back..

It wasn't a light saber, or even a very good blaster in all honesty. Just a typical mass produced generic hand blaster. Not terribly useful by any stretch of the term, but it was better than nothing.

Shaking his head, he muttered something particularly unflattering in Huttese before standing up.

"Do I even _want _to know what it was you just said?" Trask glanced back at him, before shaking his head as Davad opened his mouth to respond. "No, I don't."

"But, you just asked…" Davad didn't have to fake the smile that was curling over his lips. He'd forgotten how… amusing it could be to simply play the part of the incorrigible rogue.

The smile dipped slightly as the shipped rocked once more, reminding him of exactly _why_ he'd had to stop.

War had changed him. It changed everyone and everything. It had been so hard to find even the slightest joy doing what needed to be done, not after he'd had to make the choices to let systems burn to save galaxies.

"It was a rhetorical question." Trask made the comment with a grunt as he moved back to the door. "You ready?"

"Can a zeltron whore suck the chrome off a blaster?" Davad asked as his brow quirked up and his grin returned.

"… Well, I don't know." Trask paused a moment as he tilted his head to the side. "I never found myself attracted to blaster sucking, but hey, if that's your thing."

"Ah, he _does_ have a sense of humor!" Davad crowed lightly as the door slid open. "We'll make a real boy out of you yet."

"Oh, come on already. If I'm going to die, I'd rather not spend my last moment listening to your poor attempts at humor." Trask muttered softly as he hefted his own blaster and began to carefully move up the corridor to where the distant sounds of blaster fire could be heard.

And apparently directly into a roaming patrol of Sith. Davad couldn't see the way Trask's eyes grew to saucer's but he could imagine it. While Trask and the Sith stared at one another, Davad had calmly raised his blaster and put a bolt into one of the armored figures.

He frowned when he realized the aiming recital of the blaster was off as it took the Sith in the shoulder instead of the heart. Figured the Jedi would give him a defective blaster. Still, it was enough for everyone else to shake off their surprise and open fire on one another.

Several shots later, as the defective blaster continually seemed to send his shots wide of their original target, the Sith were down. Muttering lightly under his breath, he cursed the presence of Jedi and Force wielding Sith on the ship, preventing him from using the Force to correct his aim. Stalking over to the fresh corpses, his face twisted in displeasure as he noticed that _somehow_ all of their rifles had managed to become damaged when they'd died.

"When the hell did the Sith start using bantha droppings for weapons?" Davad's voice half grunted out as he glanced over at where Trask was staring at him curiously.

"You're complaining about them having poor weaponry?" The incredulity was dripping off his voice.

"When I've got a bad blaster I want to replace, you betcha." Davad nodded his head and then glanced down the hall. "Well, sounds like more fun that way… and at least one of em had a grenade that doesn't _look_ like it'll explode in my hand."

"Right, well, odds are at least _one_ of the several hundred Sith attacking this ship will have a working blaster, so if you don't mind… We really need to get _going._" Trask grunted lightly as he glared back at Davad.

"Yes, yes. Off to make sure we save that sweet piece of asset and go on to preserve the glory of the Republic against the evil Sith." Davad drawled the words out as he shook his head. "Lead on."

"Stop calling Bastila that." Trask grunted back as he carefully advanced down the hall. "She's one of the Republic's few hopes in this war."

"Yes, because we all know we should put so much faith in someone fresh out of their training at an isolated temple who knows such an _incredible_ amount of knowledge about the universe itself." Davad's lips twisted sourly as he pocketed the soldier's credits then stood back up.

"She stopped Revan." Trask countered with a triumphant smirk on his lips.

"Way I heard it, Malak stopped Revan." Trask never saw the look of irritation that flashed across Davad's face as he countered, nor the slightest twitch on his eye.

"Right, which seems more likely, Malak, Revan's loyal side kick for well over a decade, suddenly up and decided to turn on Revan, or a team of Jedi were able to subdue him?" Trask snapped back with a half glare.

"Which is more likely, that the untrained Jedi beat him, or that he was betrayed by his Sith apprentice whom he had previously maimed?" Davad glowered back at Trask, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Wait, who said anything about maiming?" Instantly Trask had twisted around, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

"I thought everyone knew that?" Davad winced internally as he realized exactly how he could've stepped into it. "I mean, that's the whole reason Malak wears his metal jaw!"

Called by the words, Davad could feel the memory rising up the smell of Alec… No, Malak's burning flesh as he killed what was left of his best friend, severing the last ties of true loyalty between them. The anger and rage that had swept through him, consumed him. He remembered all too well, after all it had been done to bring him here.

"I've never hear it." Suspicion was dripping off of Trask's words as he narrowed his eyes back at Davad.

"You're also a Republic soldier, how many people do _you _talk to that have connections to the Sith?" Davad snapped back as he shook his head.

Trask's face softened just a bit, though his body was still riddled with tension Davad didn't need the Force to read. "Right, smuggler who likes Nar Shaddaa."

"I like the cantinas and brothels there." Davad corrected with a forced smirk. "But then, who doesn't like good booze and hot women?"

"There's been a war going on if you hadn't noticed." Trask fired off a blast that managed to send an approaching Sith flying back. "Haven't had much time for idle gossiping with civvies."

"Hmph." Another shot went wide and Davad frowned, before wincing as he took a glancing bolt along his arm. No Force to guide him, left him dependent on his own reflexes, his own skills. And they could be frustratingly lacking at times.

"You know, the objective of this is to _not_ get shot, right?" Trask snapped the words back at Davad.

"What can I say, I'm secretly a masochist with a desire to have gaping holes burned into my flesh." Davad snapped back with a hiss as he pulled a medipack off one of the Sith corpses and applied it to the wound.

"Would explain why you insist on calling a woman who could shove a light saber up your rectal orifice a hot piece of asset." Trask noted dryly.

"You can't say she's not hot." Davad grinned back at Trask unconcerned before waggling his brows. "And you never know, I could be the one that takes the light saber she keeps up her…"

"We are _not_ having this conversation." Trask stated flatly as he glared back at Davad. "And if you're finished stealing from dead men…"

"Nope, not just yet." Davad made a quick circuit among both the Sith and Republic bodies. "And the proper term is 'looting.'"

"…" His jaw hanging open, Trask stared at Davad as words never quite materialized on his lips before he shook his head and refused to make another comment.

"What?" Davad tilted his head to the side. "They're not going to be around to use it, and do you really think this thing is going to be hauled in for repairs or capture?"

Trask's face paled visibly as realization of what Davad was saying sunk in. "And you're wasting your time looting instead of getting out of here?"

"If this ship was going to be blown up anytime soon, the Sith wouldn't be pushing for complete control like they are," Davad said with a shrug of his shoulders. "They want something, and they're doing their best to get it."

"And you want to still be here when they find it?" Trask demanded.

"Well, no, not particularly, but I'd also like to be alive to get to the escape pods," he responded simply with a shake of his head, "And when you don't have the things you need, you take other people's."

"... Why the hell are you in the Republic army?" Trask asked, staring back at him.

"I was drafted," Davad answered back as he finished looting the corpses, "Ready to move on?"

"The Republic isn't drafting soldiers currently," Trask responded with narrowed eyes.

"Tell that to the Jedi," Davad shot back, "Now, who's the one who's keeping us here?"

"... I really don't want to know, do I?" Trask responded, before sighing softly, "Right, let's get out of here."

"At last, you're speaking Basic!" he said agreeably.

"Don't you speak more languages than everyone else on board other than Bastila put together?"

"I don't know, I didn't do a poll," Davad responded without missing a beat as he opened up the only working door leading away from their current area just in time to watch a Sith trooper throw a grenade into a group of skirmishing Republic and Sith soldiers, killing them almost instantly.

Davad didn't even think as he ran towards the man and the two troopers behind him, his blaster coming out when it didn't matter how far off the aiming reticule was as his finger twitched away. Bolt after bolt hit the grenadier, dropping him with burning holes in his high polished armor. Then, the vibroblade was out, instincts screaming, the Force barely kept at bay as he cut down one of the Sith at the junction between his neck and chest armor with the vibroblade short sword before twisting the body about and kicking it at the remaining trooper.

As the trooper caught the propelled body of his dying squad mate, he quickly shoved the body out of the way. Only, it was too late to stop the vibroblade from finding a joint in his armor and severing his arm at his elbow, forcing his blaster rifle to drop to the ground. In the next instant, he barely had time to start to scream before the vibroblade was shoved up beneath his helmet and buried to the roof of his skull, killing him almost immediately.

"... By the Force. What in the name of all that's holy..?" Trask stared at him, mouth hanging, as for a moment, he could see something... he couldn't think of how to describe it as anything but pure, primal wrath flashing across the man's eyes as he turned his attention back to his original target and glared at the smoking corpse, "What was that?!"

"He threw a grenade into his own allies in order to take down a few... enemies," Davad stated in a cold, angry voice as his fingers clenched tightly on the hilt of the shortsword.

He could feel the Dark Side screaming at him. Calling him, sweet, blood thirsty promises of pain and vengeance and destruction. He could feel the Light Side whispering to him, offering to sooth him, to wash it all away in emotionless clarity.

Both were ignored as he fought down his emotions, forcing them under control with a deep, calming breath, "You don't kill your allies along with your enemies except for the absolutely _last_ possible choice. And even then, it had better be for something worth more than furthering yourself."

"... Oook then," Trask noted with a slight nod of his head, "... So are you gonna skip looting these bodies then?"

Davad stared back at Trask, as if he was trying to comprehend ancient, obscure and dead for millennium language, "... Why the hell would I skip looting? Just because they were pieces of shit doesn't mean they might not have creds or gear to take."

"... Of course not, silly me," Trask muttered and sighed as he palmed his face and let the man go to work.

Davad snorted softly and cast the blasted grenadier one more glare before he heard the gurgling sound from the Sith who's throat he'd slashed. Wincing slightly he walked over to the weakly struggling figure, clutching desperately at its throat, trying to hold in the seeping red blood flowing through its fingers. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the great swell of pity for the soldier, before it was coldly cut down as he put a blaster bolt through its helmet and stilled its vain attempts to save its life.

Turning, he then looted the figure with a calm efficiency, before doing the same to the others, and the dead Sith and Republic soldiers.

"Do you really have no shame?" Trask halfheartedly demanded.

"They're either going to be looted by the Sith, or destroyed with this ship," Davad responded with a note of detachment in his voice. "Either way, a waste if we leave them behind."


	4. HP: War Games

Title: War Games

Disclaimer: Harry Potter Belongs to JK Rowling. Not sure who first started the Fanfiction the game trope though.

Author's Notes: I will preface with saying I will **NOT** stop releasing my fanfiction for free. I cannot, by law, sell fanfiction. Nor am I attempting to.

That being said, I have at the urging of a certain cabbit started up a patreon campaign.

Just $1 per 3,000 word chapters (I might increase this amount in near future based on patron feedback) I'll be releasing on Patreon first.

After they're released there, I will be posting them here after 6 weeks. After an additional 6 weeks from the fic's completion and post here, I will release it on .

What the support campaign is for is to engage me to write more. I will make no profit on the work itself. Just on the fact that I am writing things that people want to read.

Patreon will also limit how much maximum you can pay a month if you don't want to pay more than a certain amount. You want to limit it to only $1 a month even if I release the upper most max I think I'll get currently (4)? That's fine.

But, of course that's not all. I'll also give the chance for people to voice their opinions on what they want to see more of, excluding the two reach goals of Kunoichi summoning contract and an NBH sequel reaching into Shippuden.

Which means if there is a particular Fragment that people want pushed, the patrons can push it. I can't guarantee my muse will be able to respond as quickly as people would like, but I will make the effort.

So, I present my patreon page on the patreon dot com web site, it's (Slash) Chilord

Information is also on my profile page, with an actual hyper link.

Now on with the fic:

-o-o-o-

Harry Potter stared at the image before him with a look of bleak incomprehension on his face.

**GAME OVER.**

The last thing he'd truly remembered had been a celebratory bash on the first anniversary of what should have been their graduation from Hogwarts. The fire whiskey had flowed like that place across the falls, Niagra Falls or something. Then, he remembered the stumbling trip up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower with Ginny, the stumble, and the fall.

"… Really? I bloody well survived Tom fuckin' Voldemort and I die falling down some stairs when I'm trying to get in a drunken bit of fun?"

Then he saw words flashing in the air before him.

**Achievements Unlocked!**

**Canon Finish! – New Game + Unlocked.**

Below that, he could see a number of other lines, over thirty in total following after it, each with a small picture attached to it that faded before he could really see them.

Then a small glowing orb appeared and a cheerful voice popped, "Thank you for playing, Harry Potter! Would you like to quit, or would you like to play again?"

"... Wait, what?" Harry stared at the light confusion written on his face.

"Would you like to play again?" the voice repeated expectantly. "Or would you like to retire?"

"Play again?" Harry repeated, confusion written across his face.

"Ok!" the voice agreed with a quick nod. "Initiating New Game +! Enjoy!"

"Wait, what?!" he asked as suddenly, the world faded into darkness, before his throat suddenly seized up as he was treated to a sight of a silvery Moony and Padfoot, running like mad with a charging Prongs following them, antlers lowered and pointed towards their posteriors.

He might be simply imagining it, but he could've sworn he saw a flash of red in Prongs' eyes, and a look of absolute panic on the faces of the wolf and dog. A moment later, they vanished into darkness. Harry stood there, blinking slightly as he tried to process what he saw, before suddenly a howling yelp filled the air as Padfoot flew threw the air, tail tucked between his legs and trying to clutch his hind quarters.

A moment later, Moony followed suit, before Prongs strode back into view, snorted softly, then trotted off.

The sheer incredulity of the scene made Harry bark off a light laugh, before a screen seemed to pop up in front of him with two options.

**Express (Choose this option to begin play as soon as possible)**

**Custom (Recommended after first play through for expanded gameplay)**

"Um, Custom?"

And suddenly a list unfolded before him.

**Bloodline:**

**None**

**Gryffindor (+5 base Str, +5 base Con, +5 base Will)**

**Slytherin (Locked, Complete a year in Slytherin to unlock)**

**Ravenclaw (Locked, Complete a year in Ravenclaw to unlock)**

**Hufflepuff (Locked, Complete a year in Hufflepuff to unlock)**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

Seeing only as a bloodline seemed better than none he shrugged a bit, "Gryffindor."

**Bloodline: Gryffindor**

**Perks (2)**

**Treasure Hunter (Gain Treasure sense ability)**

**Skyborn (Gain Flying Animagus Form)**

**Winterborn (Gain Immunity to magically induced fear and despair, including Dementors)**

While Skyborn sounded absolutely wicked, Treasure Hunter just sounded more useful. Winterborn was a kind of no brainer though. "Winterborn. Treasure Hunter."

**Bloodline: Gryffindor**

**Perks:**

**Treasure Hunter**

**Winterborn**

**Traits(7):**

**Teacher's Pet ( Opens up additional Lesson Opportunities with teaches with at least friendly attitude towards y ou.)**

**Lesser Aspect of Death (Ghosts are 1 step friendlier to you)**

**Honorable (Will bonus for keeping word; Penalty for breaking it)**

**Blooded (Combat Skills increase 20% Faster)**

**Deliquent (Thief Skills increase 10% faster)**

**Snake Eater (Deal 20% more damage to Slytherin Class; take 20% Less damage from Slytherin Class)**

**Elf Friend (Elves are 1 step friendlier)**

**Shadow Tempered Soul (20% more Damage to Dark class; Take 20% less damage from Dark Class)**

**Nymph Friend (Nymph class 1 step friendlier to you)**

**The More The Merrier (Party size can be increased by 1)**

**Jaded (Bonus to perception to see through lies and disinformation)**

**Hooligan ( Bonus 20% combat skills when the honor of your team is impugned, 20% penalty to resist reacting to insults to your team's honor)**

**Mentor (Raise skill increase of tutored individuals in any skill you have 10 or more levels in than they do.)**

**Centaur Friend (Centaurs are 1 step friendlier to you)**

"Um..." This time, he really had to think about it. Blooded, Snake Eater and Shadowed Tempered Soul definitely. Beyond that... Teacher's Pet sounded too much like Hermione's thing. Honorable was kinda appealing, but also easily used against him. Delinquent sounded too much like Dudley.

The various friend ones... well Elf friend was tempting, but the thought of Dobby being even _friendlier_ to him sent a shiver down his spine. Ghosts would probably get him dragged to more Death Day parties, though he wondered if that was the lesser aspect, if there were others and what they did. Centaurs sounded somewhat interesting, but he never really found them that appealing. Nymphs though...

Well, Veela were supposed to be nymphs right? So, would that mean Fleur wouldn't call him a "leetle boy"? Something to think about

Hooligan immediately brought to mind football hooligans. And was apparently apt from the description. No thanks.

That left Jaded, Mentor and The More the Merrier.

Jaded and Mentor definitely, he decided. With two slots left... well might as well.

"Blooded, Snake Eater, Shadow Tempered Soul, Jaded, Mentor, The More the Merrier and Nymph Friend."

**Bloodline: Gryffindor**

**Perks:**

**Treasure Hunter**

**Winterborn**

**Traits:**

**Blooded**

**Snake Eater**

**Shadow Tempered Soul**

**Jaded**

**Mentor**

**The More the Merrier**

**Nymph Friend.**

**Are the the choices you wish to continue with? Yes/No**

"Ah, yes," he stated with a nod and a slight grin on his lips.

**Allocate stats or use Recommended?**

"Hum... Recommended?"

**Recommended stats:**

**Stats:**

**Intelligence 20**

**Will 20 (+6)**

**Spirit 20**

**Insight 16**

**Constitution 11 (+5)**

**Strength 10 (+5)**

**Dexterity 18**

**Luck 25 (+5)**

**Accept Starting Stats? Yes/No**

Seeing no reason not to he responded, "Yes."

**Please Allocate Starting Skills Points (100)**

**Max skill points at start currently 15**

**Combat**

**Charms**

**Transfiguration**

**Potions**

**Thief**

**Quidditch**

**Mind Arts**

**Time**

**Marauder**

**Dark Arts**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

**(Locked)**

Frowning slightly, Harry pondered those choices for a bit, "So, I guess the more skill points, the better I am at stuff? Well... Combat 15, Mind Arts 15, Marauder 15, Charms 15, Transfiguration 15, Um... Potions, 15 and... Quidditch 10?"

**Skills:**

**Combat (15)**

**Charms (15)**

**Transfiguration (15)**

**Potions(15)**

**Thief (0)**

**Quidditch (10)**

**Mind Arts (15)**

**Time (0)**

**Marauder (15)**

**Dark Arts (0)**

**Confirm Skill selection? Yes/No**

"Yes," Harry stated with a nod of his head.

Again the various choices he'd made appeared before him.

**Confirm selections or Edit?**

Harry hesitated a moment, before stating, "Confirm."

**Selection Confirmed. Initiating New Game +. Please stand by.**

And then, Harry was treated to the sight of Prongs trotting up, flanked by Padfoot on one side, and Moony on the other. The Three of them gave him a solemn look before suddenly the animals somehow produced a banner. Upon it read: "Have fun and get shagged rotten!"

It was then that a doe showed up giving the distinct impression it was glaring at the three other animals. Padfoot and Moony quickly turned tail and ran. Prongs spared their retreating forms a look, snorted and then looked back at the doe.

There was a moment of silence as the two stared challengingly at one another, before the doe seemed to slump slightly then walked over and lightly butted against Prongs' neck with a huff before sending Harry a loving look.

It was only when the world suddenly began to spin violently like he was being tugged off by portkey that he realized the doe was representing his mother.

A moment later, the world suddenly went black and he lost consciousness.

-o-o-o-

Harry awoke to a set of blinking white letters that illuminated a cramped, almost claustrophobic space. A space that Harry realized was quite familiar. He was back in the cupboard under the stairs.

In front of him, he could see the letters waiting patiently for him.

**Enable Tutorial? Yes/No.**

Wanting to know what was going on, Harry nodded his head as he spoke. "Yes."

**Welcome to the start of Harry Potter: New Game+! After successfully completing the major salient points of contest facing Harry Potter, you have unlocked the ability to begin a new game with added perks, traits, and bonuses unlocked by the various achievements you accomplished previously. Additional completed play throughs will expand upon the numbers of stats, skill points, traits and perks you can start the game with.**

**The best advice we can offer is to diversify each game as much as possible, this will enable you to encounter new challenges, unlock new accomplishments and give you access to additional options upon completion. There are hidden challenges and opportunities everywhere, remember to practice Constant Vigilance! These challenges can lead to new achievements, skill boosts, unique opportunities and expanded social possibilities.**

**End General Tutorial. Would you like to continue to Menu Tutorial? Yes/No.**

Harry blinked as he processed the words and their meaning, before tentatively stating, "Yes."

**Menus**

**In a normal game, you'd hit something like start, escape, or something similar to access the menus. As there are no buttons for such things, and you'd look utterly silly calling out for such things out loud in front of people, we've simplified it. Simply purposely think about bringing up the menu and it will appear. It must be a purposeful thought, not an idle one however.**

**Please try now.**

Harry stared at the words, before shrugging a bit and furrowing his brow as he thought purposely. "Bring up menu."

Suddenly, the world seemed to freeze in place and Harry was faced with a set of selections, bold, golden letters set atop black, imposing stone.

**Character**

**Skills**

**Magic**

**Inventory**

**Journal**

**Options**

**Help**

Harry had a moment to read through all of the options before a new set of words popped up.

**Each of the main menu options is relatively straight forward. Character is where you can see a summary of your current character and your stats. Skills is where you can see you current skill levels. Magic, will of course list what magical spells, potions, wards, and enchantments you have available to cast or craft. Inventory lists your various items, both mundane and otherwise. Journal lists any facts of interest and information on your current tasks/quests and your current unlocked achievements.**

**Options will be where various changes that can be made to the settings of the game. Currently, it is filled with Difficulty, pacing and Mode. We highly recommend not making any changes to mode until additional play throughs have been accomplished, as the only current alternate mode is Crack Mode, where in all logic and plausibility is suspended in favor of hilarity and insanity. Other options will become available as new achievements are unlocked.**

**Help. Select this in order to ask questions for clarification of gameplay mechanics. This cannot be used in order to ask for help on what you're supposed to do next. Help is for if you're not sure how something is supposed to work. Do not be afraid to use it. **

Harry blinked at that. It was all rather straight forward. Surprisingly so compared to what he was used to, where he would be fumbling around in the dark and no one who knew what was going on would explain things to him.

He'd hold his breath on whether or not it could be trusted though.

Out of curiosity of what would happen, he thought firmly "character."

**Harry Potter**

**Stats:**

**Intelligence 20**

**Will 26**

**Spirit 20**

**Insight 16**

**Constitution 16**

**Strength 15**

**Dexterity 18**

**Luck 30**

**Apitude:**

**Intelligence 110**

**Will 115**

**Spirit 120**

**Insight 105**

**Constitution 80**

**Strength 80**

**Dexterity 105**

**Luck ?**

Frowning slightly, Harry glanced over the stats and aptitudes, and couldn't help but think about 'Help'

**Character**

**This section will display your current stats, as well as your aptitudes in them. Aptitudes reflect how quickly you can earn additional stats. 100 reflects a completely normal and average level of stat advancement. Numbers less than 100 will mean you have a harder time to advance those corresponding stats. Numbers higher will mean you have an easier time advancing the corresponding stat.**

"Ok, now how the bloody hell do I advance my stats?" He murmured half to himself.

… **Perhaps you should really think about how you'd advance your stats anyway?**

Harry blinked a moment, then gave the text a mild glare. "Cheeky one, aren't you?"

When no response came up, he sighed and spoke up again. "Well, Skills is probably the same so…"

And with a firm thought he focused on "Magic," with a concept of "menu" added in for good measure.

**Magic:**

Harry waited a moment for it to load, before frowning as nothing else appeared. "Wait, I know a good bit of magic!"

That did nothing to make anything appear, so again he focused on thinking about "Help."

**Spell knowledge does not carry over between play throughs. However, knowledge of the best way to go about casting spells cannot be taken from you. To learn new spells, you need either a Wizarding World Mentor, or a spell book. **

Harry suddenly made the connection between the Teacher's Pet Trait he'd passed on earlier and groaned. "Wait, that could've helped me learn more spells? From teachers? So without it, I can't get extra spells from them?"

**Additional lessons can be learned from teachers without the Teacher's Pet trait. However, without the trait, it requires far more dedication and skill in the teacher's chosen field. Plus, an approach to the field that the teacher in question finds appropriate. Some teachers are much harder to impress than others, and a variety of factors, including House selection, affect just how difficult.**

"… Bugger." Harry noted with a sigh and a slump of his shoulders.

Sighing a bit, he mentally queued up the menu again then looked it over, before focusing on the "Inventory" tab.

**Inventory:**

**Ratty Hand-Me-Downs From Dudley (Borrowed)**

**Shoddy Glasses**

Harry glanced down at himself, and clarified that did indeed seem to be the full extent of his belongings at the moment. And it fit with the Dursleys that they'd consider the hand-me-downs as something they leant him instead of giving to him.

"I really need to get some clothes of my own." Harry noted with a grimace and a shake of his head. Before he focused again and summoned the Journal.

**Journal**

**You have just started a new game. Here you will find notable information you've learned during the course of this play through. It will be recorded automatically, however there is a small section for notes to be taken. This section is limited, but accessible through multiple play throughs. **

"Hmm, that could be handy." Harry admitted quietly to himself and nodded his head a bit. A moment later, he hesitated then thought of the last option he hadn't used yet. Options.

**Options**

**Skill Tree Unlock Automatic: No**

**Difficulty Level: Normal**

**Mode: Normal**

**Pacing: Highlights reel**

Harry hesitated a moment, before speaking up. "Help, Skill Tree Unlock Automatic."

**Enabling automatic unlock enables you to open up a skill tree as soon as you receive the achievement instead of waiting for next play through. Currently it is set to No, so the skill trees will not unlock when you have received the appropriate achievement.**

"Skill Tree Unlock Automatic: Yes."

**Confirmed. Skill Trees will now be automatically unlocked during the play through they were earned. **

"Help, Pacing."

**Pacing covers how fast the game moves. Ever noticed a time where it felt like everything was moving by in a blur? That is the default pacing of Highlights reel. With the Highlights reel pacing, all skills raise themselves automatically between high lights and skills learned during high light reel are learned at an extended pacing. **

**During normal pacing, skills do not automatically advance. Everything must be worked at repeatedly. It's much more work, however, it is also where you will be able to fully master skills and skill trees, are you're able to devote more time and focus to them. **

Harry wasn't sure, honestly. Had things been like that before? After he'd started going to Hogwarts, things had rather become a blur…

"Pacing: Normal."

**Confirmed. Pacing now set to normal. Remember to practice.**

Harry took a moment to consult his surroundings again, before not8ing that there was honestly little for him to really note. Even after 8 years, he still recognized the cupboard under the stairs on number 4 Privet Dr. And, he found it dismally the same.

"Boy! Get up!"

Also familiar was the sound of his "family's" bellowing.

It hit him then, what it meant by Harry Potter the game.

It was his life, made into one of those games that Dudley had played when he was just a boy.

That…

And he realized that he knew practically nothing about games. Not this time with stats and the like. This… was going to be interesting.

And so, the first day became.

-o-o-o-

When he crawled out of the cupboard, he vaguely realized that today was the day his Hogwarts letter was due to arrive. That immediately mad his mind whirl with possibility. And then, complication.

He didn't have an owl. Immediately a pang hit his heart as he remembered Hedwig. Taking a deep breath, he then released it with a sigh.

If he didn't play it out exactly how it happened before, he might not be actually able to get Hedwig again. He wasn't even sure he could handle having a new Hedwig, because she wouldn't be _his_ Hedwig.

He looked around the room before frowning as he caught sight of his irritated looking uncle. A cowed Vernon Dursley was tolerable. Uncowed, he was a menace.

"All right, boy, it's time for you to earn your keep!" Vernon stated with a huffing bluster.

Only, this Harry was not the scare little 10 year old boy whom thought of Vernon as the most frightening thing in existence.

"No." Harry stated softly as he looked at the comparatively giant of a man.

"What!?" Vernon's face was starting to turn several shades of color Harry was quite familiar with. "Now, see here you ungrateful…"

"Did you ever think about why random wizards and witches would suddenly come up to me as soon as they saw me? How they recognized me on sight, even though they'd never met me?" Harry asked, feeling a swell of years of frustration and resentment.

The color swiftly drained out of Vernon's face before quickly returning a moment later. "Now, see here! I don't know what kind of freakish nonsense you're talking about, but…"

"My Hogwarts letter will be coming." Harry stated simply. "You can try to destroy it, hide it, lock me up… They'll just keep sending them, more and more at a time, until they eventually send _someone_ to find out why I'm not responding."

Vernon had paled again, staring at Harry in open mouthed disbelief.

"Now, imagine how a wizard or witch would react, finding out that you tried to stomp the magic out of me? How do you think they would react, to finding out you told me that my parents were worthless drunks, who were killed in a car crash? What would they think of how you kept me locked up in a cupboard, wearing only the cast offs of a son you spoiled?"

Harry could see it in Vernon's eyes. Fear. It both elated and sickened him.

**Skill Tree Unlocked! Intimidation.**

Harry had a feeling then, that things were definitely not going to end up the same way they had before.


End file.
